


Infractum

by YesterDarling



Category: Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater
Genre: Background Relationships, M/M, Ronan being a mess, They're kind of dating but not really, bluesy - Freeform, courting? is that the word I want here?, like kind of pre relationship, pynch - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-23
Updated: 2019-02-23
Packaged: 2019-11-04 09:47:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17896187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YesterDarling/pseuds/YesterDarling
Summary: “You could always ask, you know.”“We both know that’ll never happen.” He let out a laugh, sharp enough to cut through the murmurs and chatting of the other students and the hustle of the waitstaff as they prepared the buffet area. A few people looked their way, but most of them lost interest quickly. They knew well enough to dismiss it as Ronan. “If I had asked, you would’ve said no.”“You don’t know that for sure,” retorted Adam, though he probably would’ve. Whether Ronan chose to listen or not was a different matter. “I’m surprised you even came.”Aglionby hosts a formal dinner for the students, and Adam's life is taken out of focus. He spends time with Ronan, and it shifts back.





	Infractum

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovelies! Here's a little Pynch oneshot I wrote based on a dream I have. They aren't dating yet, but they're not _not_ dating, either?  
> Also, this in an AU where Kavinsky isn't dead.

Adam hated the Aglionby formals.  
  
He knew it was the life that he had hoped for, and he hoped that some day, he’d grow to at the very least tolerate them, but for now sitting in his congress dinner suit being talked at by the headmaster was torture. Not even being sandwiched into a table with Gansey and Blue and Ronan could make the situation seem better.  
  
Child was practically droning. He swore that he gave basically the same speech every year, littered with decorum and prestige and a lot of pre-scripted garbage; if Adam were up there, at least it would have been more original.  
  
Drawn from his thoughts by applause, he joined in with the others, hoping to blend in as though he had been listening and doing so with ease. To his satisfaction, it looked like Blue had done the same. It was good to not be the only common folk in a room full of kings and their queens for the night.  
  
“Well, that was as shitty as ever.”  
  
He turned to face Ronan. His tie was already loose and jacket already creased, but in spite of it, he had to admit: Ronan Lynch could clean up nicely. He caught Adam’s gaze and threw a smirk in his direction, and Adam felt a slight smile grace his own lips.  
  
“Wouldn’t expect anything else,” Gansey laughed, proper and polite. His mask was up, he knew, but not all the way. He could tell from how Blue looked at him that he’d tied it on looser for both their sakes. President Cellphone, but a less concentrated version, watered down by the insomniac archaeologist. Charmingly, he began to relay the stories to Blue, and Adam’s ears searched for a conversation he’d never heard before.  
  
Ronan, as per always, caught his attention. His feet had made their way to being propped up on Adam’s chair.  
  
“You could always ask, you know.”  
  
“We both know that’ll never happen.” He let out a laugh, sharp enough to cut through the murmurs and chatting of the other students and the hustle of the waitstaff as they prepared the buffet area. A few people looked their way, but most of them lost interest quickly. They knew well enough to dismiss it as Ronan. “If I had asked, you would’ve said no.”  
  
“You don’t know that for sure,” retorted Adam, though he probably would’ve. Whether Ronan chose to listen or not was a different matter. “I’m surprised you even came.”  
  
“Declan made me,” he dismissed, but Adam was sure he saw another reason behind his eyes.  
  
He had to look away.  
  
Adam was never quite sure what, exactly, they were. It was something; it had to be, but between subtle glances and shopping cart roller derbys and intentionally unintentional touches, he had yet to give what it was a name. He was fairly sure Ronan hadn’t either, but they both wanted to, and so they kept skirting around the idea as they waited for something to happen.  
  
“That’s worse. That means you actually listened.” He earned another laugh from him; less sarcastic and more Ronan. He thought about pressing more. That seemed like a bad idea.  
  
“Gotta keep them guessing.”  
  
“At least this time, my guess was right, baby.”  
  
Frozen to his spot, but not in place, Adam turned his head to find himself face-to-nightmare-of-a-suit Kavinsky. The energy at the entire table drained; he could feel it disappear. Was this how it felt to Blue, too, or worse? It all felt wrong, and he felt Cabeswater pulling at him to leave.  
  
Ronan, arrogant and angry and passionate as he was, was the first to speak up: “Go fuck yourself, Kavinsky,” he requested, nonchalant and furious all at once; a storm that had yet to begin, but one threatening to downpour at any moment.  
  
“Aw, come on Lynch. Don’t be a coward. Get up and come do it yourself.” He howled with laughter like the hyena that he was, lips curling into a smile to match. “I see they let you out of your cage tonight, huh? Finally give President Dick some proper head?”  
  
Adam wasn’t focused. Everything was mushing together. From somewhere, he heard Blue, sickly sweet and passive aggressive. “Sounds like you haven’t had anything like that in a while. How about if you go look for it somewhere else, asshole.”  
  
“No fun in that, midget.” She bristled as someone besides Ronan used her nickname.  
  
“I meant it, Kavinsky. Go fuck yourself, fuck off, whatever makes you get the hell out.” Ronan snarled.  
  
“Fine. You, me, 11th street to High.” There was a dead silence, and for a moment everyone was as silent as Adam. Cabeswater kept telling him to go, and he kept frozen in spite of the heat wave of tension of the air. This was wrong. “You said whatever gets me out. Make it worth my while, babe,” chided Kavinsky.  
Ronan looked as though he was going to explode, his fists clenched. He heard Gansey warn, “Ronan,” equally unsure of which way the explosion would go: kicked out or kicking the BMW into gear.  
  
Someone’s hands slammed on the table, and everyone stared at Adam until he realized they were his. Standing up, knuckles white from anger and pressing on the table too hard. In the end, it’d been him that exploded first.  
  
“I’ll be leaving now,” he said, as composed as he dared to be (which was very composed, in all honesty) as he sent a look to Ronan: Don’t you dare. Don’t you dare break yourself.  
  
The silence rendered him fully deaf as he left the country club.

x

He knew it was a long walk back to St. Agnes, but he had ridden in with Gansey, so driving was out of the question. He wanted to be outside anyway, for his thoughts to recollect and his heartbeat to slow to something more manageable.  
  
The night air was intoxicating, relaxing, and Adam felt more at peace as he reached a quarter of the way back. Dress shoes pinched at his feet and the Virginia weather stuck his shirt to him uncomfortably. His jacket had long since been ditched in favor of carrying it over his shoulder, but the world still felt a little more right than before.  
  
An engine’s roar dulled from somewhere, and he wasn’t sure when he heard it stop; he only realized it when he heard footsteps behind him and, after a few steps, felt Ronan’s presence beside him.  
  
They walked for a while in silence until Adam’s feet hurt more than he could take, and he sat in silence with Ronan beneath a tree on the side of the road. Cars drove past them, but they all left them alone. He was glad they did. They sat in silence, Ronan tracing circles on the back of Adam’s hand for what felt like both no time at all and an eternity. They didn’t need words for Ronan to apologize, nor for Adam to accept it, and so they didn’t bother wasting them. They could be put to better use later. The world came back into full focus over time, and he wasn’t sure how long it had taken, only that Ronan’s hand was still lingering with his and that where he had felt wrong, wrong, wrong earlier, things felt like they could be alright again.  
  
“I’m ready,” he told Ronan softly, and he helped him to his feet.  
  
“I’m staying over,” he said decisively, as if he had known Adam’s question before he had asked it. “Fix the dolly for next time, grab a six pack… you name it, Parrish.”  
  
Another silence reigned, and Adam looked to their still interlocked hands.  
  
“ _Iustus manere_ ,” he said decisively, softly, so as to not break the moment. The leather bands chafed familiarly against his wrist.  
  
Ronan, gentle in a way only he could be, brought his fingers to his lips, holding them there for a moment.  
  
“ _Scilicet. Et non relinquam vos_.”

**Author's Note:**

> Infractum - Unfractured  
> Iustus manere. - Just stay.  
> Scilicet. Et non relinquam vos. - Of course. I won't leave you.


End file.
